And so the great Tiger Woods saga continues, an entire week of headlines about some guy who plays a fat guy's game better than the fat guys. It seems that Tiger had a little fender-bender with his Cadillac outside the gated community where he has his fabulous mansion and Viking Warrior Princess wife. Well, one thing led to another and it seems the Viking Warrior Princess wife had chased him out of there with his own golf clubs when she found out the guy has a dozen or so girlfriends who look just like her. Why that was a surprise to her is anyone's guess. Everyone knows golfers have a lot of extra clubs and like 8 pairs of golf shoes. And if the guy is rich and famous and prefers Viking Warrior women, well, word gets out.
People tell us Tiger Woods is a great athlete, so it's no wonder he's the best golfer ever. Hardly seems fair, no? If they allow actual athletes to participate in all fat guy's games, well, there goes the records for bowling and darts too. And if real athletes ever take an interest in soccer, that will be the end of all those 1-1 ties in that most boring of sports, and all that chaotic running back and forth and kicking will start to make sense, maybe even get some coordination and organization instead of a bunch of regular guys with no athletic skills at all shouting and doing what the hell they feel like for 2 confusing hours. But that's not Tiger Woods' problem, or ours.
Our mutual problem is that Tiger has always been more of a manufactured brand name than a human being, and when the tiny part of him that remains a human being is revealed to be as human as the rest of us, well, it seems that the world as we know it goes a little more off-kilter than usual. Tiger Woods was taken in by a giant public relations corporation when he was barely out of the womb and showing signs of being a better golfer than anyone ever in history, no big deal athletically, of course, but a huge money maker with rich fat white guys who will spend fortunes when commanded to do so by a competent golfer.
So the guy never had what could be considered any kind of normal life, forever being a pampered little brat, and never needing to develop any personality or character. All he had to do was be great at playing golf, while the public relations people assigned him a generic personality. Which was fine by him as long as he got his way and earned many many millions of dollars. Not that the guy was without character traits, if self absorption and greed count as such. He played his golf, got to screw lots of Viking Warrior Princesses, and made hundreds and hundreds of millions of dollars selling products to rich fat white guys.
His handlers sold him as the perfect human being, a combination of every ethnic group in America and one hell of a nice guy. The fact that he is hated by his fellow golfer was sold as them being fat sore losers when in fact he is a smug winner and a sore loser with a foul mouth and no congratulations for anyone who beat him at golf. In short, a rotten prick. If not for his Viking Warrior Princess wife beating him senseless with his own golf clubs and him attempting to flee in his Cadillac, the world would be no wiser about Mr. Perfect. And like a bunch of rubes a the State Fair, the world registers amazement when yet another cardboard hero is exposed for the creep that he is.
Not only that, we're supposed to have sympathy for the various other Viking Warrior Princesses who lined up to polish Tiger's wood! What are we, stupid? When a wealthy, self-absorbed rotten prick and a bunch of blond bimbo hos want to get busy in motel rooms and trailer parks behind their spouses' backs, why is this the biggest news story in the history of news stories? Maybe the real story is the tale of the public relations corporations, the molders of public images and professional liars. These sort of people invented the American Dream somewhere back in the 1920s, and the next day invented the American Dream Machine, that loose consortium of advertising professionals, Washington lobbyists, cable TV court jesters and wealthy ruling class greedsters intent on keeping the curtain closed on the control booth of the Wizard of Oz.
The Dream Machine would have you believe all sorts of fluffy and saccharine things about this nation and the individuals they publicize that are supposed to represent all that is right and good about America. These buffoons have been trying to hijack America for a long time, and the fact that anyone is shocked by the exposing of Tiger Woods as just one more lousy greedster is proof that they are succeeding. If you want to believe God is in his heaven and all is right with the world, don't peek behind the curtain at that puny little man pinning the dials and pulling the levers. Just keep listening to the bellowing voice that tells us over and over and over again: "I am the Great and Powerful Oz!"
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
You were right on the dot on this one ,Bob.Just like private detectives say:Follow the money.
I was wondering every time a news clip appeared about Tiger Woods,why would anyone on earth expect sainthood from a travelling millionaire golf player,but your article dissipated all those doubts
.My original thought about the issue is that this was in the category great american matriarchy
,in which an invisible,nevertheles
real,network of women,most likely
behind all the rich powers that be
,show their punishment to any fidelity infringement,but as your article pointed out it was once more the forces of hipochrisy worried about making a bet with their sponsorship money,on an imperfect horse.A message for his agent,get him a good Vegas come party with the best campaign,or any other promotion where he could start with the words :"Hey I'm not
perfect,so I trust my safety to
Anaconda condoms..."
Post a Comment